


Behind Rusty Prison Bars

by Destiel_5eva



Series: Rusty Prison Bars 'verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Prison, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Castiel, Kinda, M/M, One Shot, Possessive Dean Winchester, Prison Sex, Public Display of Affection, Rimming, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 18:58:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2868233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destiel_5eva/pseuds/Destiel_5eva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on this prompt: can someone write an au where dean and (human) cas meet in prison with dean in there for something serious that he did to protect sammy or something and cas is in there because he was one of the like 2 people per year who get arrested for pirating music off the internet</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind Rusty Prison Bars

Castiel swallows hard. It was just dumb luck really. Of the number of people worldwide that pirate music from the Internet, why did it have to be him? He couldn’t believe his eyes when two federal agents knocked on his door and placed him under arrest. Handcuffed and terrified he was given a jumpsuit and a maximum of five years imprisonment. After his trial he was escorted to a bus and driven to prison with a bunch of other burly offenders.

Now it's almost nine o'clock at night and he's being frogmarched down a long corridor inside the prison. He tries to keep his eyes down. He has to be the youngest person in here at only twenty-two. He _knows_ what happens to young “twinks” like him. He’ll inevitably become someone’s bitch. Either that or he gets shivved in the bathrooms. Really, both sound like horrible options. He can _feel_ the beady eyes on him. Tattooed men surround him, some with beards, some with beer guts all just as intimidating.

“Keep moving!” Someone yells at him with a shove to his back. Castiel hurries forward almost throwing himself at the guard holding out the little pile consisting of a blanket roll, toilet paper and spare jumpsuit.

“Down the hall. Cell 32,” the guard points behind him. Castiel nods and swallows back the ‘thank you’ on the tip of his tongue. Somehow he doesn’t think the men in here would take too kindly to someone being polite. He doesn’t need any more of a reason to become a target.

He steps into the cell and eyes the bunk bed taking up most of the small concrete room. A guard slams the door shut behind him, muttering about ‘lights out’. Someone reclines on the top bunk. He sits up when he notices Castiel’s presence. The first thing Castiel notices about his new cellmate are the eyes. A deep green that stare blankly at him. The second thing are the freckles littering his face: crossing the bridge of his nose and smattering his cheeks. Castiel stares. He forgets about not meeting anyone’s eyes because _damn_. “What’re you in for, blue eyes?” the man drawls, breaking Castiel out of this trance. He looks away, at the grey wall. “Cat got your tongue?” the bed creaks as the man rolls off, landing with a soft thump before him. He has to be in his mid thirties if the crows feet in the corners of his eyes and the laugh lines around his mouth are anything to go by.

“N-no,” Castiel stutters.

“Well…” the man walks towards him, like a cat would towards a mouse. He smirks at Castiel, amused with Castiel’s unease in his presence.

“P-pirating music,” Castiel says quietly staring at the other mans' shoes. He snorts and Castiel dares to look up. The other man is standing close; so close their chests almost touch.

“Mmm aren’t you a bad, _bad_ boy,” the man says huskily and fuck if a bolt of arousal doesn’t hit Castiel straight in the balls. “The name’s Winchester. Dean. You are?” Dean fingers the collar of Castiel’s jumpsuit, eyes raking over the ever-reddening skin of Castiel’s neck.

“Castiel N-novak,” Castiel whispers, blushing furiously when Dean’s tongue pokes out to wet his lips.

“Well Cas, I think we’re going to get along swell,” Dean tells him, patting his chest before turning away and clambering back onto his bunk. He lies back, pillowing his hands under his head, closing his eyes. “Well don’t just stand there. Make yourself at home. You’re going to be here for a while after all,” Dean chuckles to himself. With a perfunctory nod that Dean obviously doesn't see, Castiel walks forward setting his things on the end of the bottom bed before sitting down himself. “You know what I think?” Dean says thoughtfully, Cas can feel him tapping his foot through the vibrations going through the bed.

“What is that, Dean?” he answers dutifully. Right now, he’s going to do _everything_  in his power to keep in the good books of all the inmates here.

“I think that because you’re new here you should stick by me.”

“What? You’re going to be my bodyguard? The big strong hero who makes sure I don’t get bent over a table and screwed until I can taste the cock pounding my ass?” Cas claps a hand over his mouth the second the words are past his lips. What the hell happened to staying in these men’s good books? Fear makes Castiel’s blood run cold. He’s doomed. Well and truly doomed. That is, until Dean throws his head back and laughs. He laughs so hard tears stream down his face.

“Oh Cas you are lucky as fuck you said that to me and not literally anyone else in this joint! I swear to god,” Dean cackles, face turning a shade of crimson. Castiel isn’t comforted by Dean’s words. Who’s to say that Dean won’t do exactly what he just said?

“Shut the fuck up, Winchester!” someone shouts and Castiel startles. It sounded as if the man was standing _right there_ and he did not sound happy.

“Screw you Walker!” Dean shouts back.

“Shut up, both of you! Lights out!” A guard growls, slapping the metal cell door on his way past causing Cas to nearly jump out of his skin. The lights flick off, leaving them in darkness. The only light coming from the tiny barred window set high into the wall.

“Lie down, Cas,” Dean’s growly voice is quiet and Cas immediately complies curling up in a ball on the small mattress.

***

Cas wakes to a hand lightly slapping his cheek. His eyes spring open and he shrinks away from the touch. “Wakey, wakey, Sleeping Beauty,” Dean grins. Cas stares back at him wide eyed. “Aw don’t be like that, sweetheart you’ve got five years of this ahead of you. But don’t worry I’ll still be here when you leave. You’ve got nothin’ to worry about.” Dean gives his face another pat before retreating. He walks over to the door, grabbing the rusty bars. He angles his head to look up and down the corridor. “Ay, guards! You tryin’ to starve us! Breakfast started five minutes ago!” Dean shouts with a grin.

“Yeah, yeah. Stick a sock in it, Winchester,” a guard bites back. Dean chuckles turning to face Castiel.

“You gonna get up or you just going to stay there and miss breakfast?” he asks Cas, cocking an eyebrow. Quickly Cas gets up, looking away when Dean’s eyes scan up and down his body. He blushes and bites this lip, Dean’s eyes darken with arousal when they land on his lips.

The sound of a key turning in the lock of the door and the screech of hinges signals them to a guard’s arrival. Dean turns to the tiny man. “Garth,” Dean nods to him.

“You got a newbie,” Garth turns to Castiel, giving him a slightly goofy smile. Cas looks at his feet.

“Yep.” Dean strolls from the cell, followed by Garth. Castiel takes their queue and follows. They join the line of criminals. Cas stands close to Dean, subconsciously seeking him out as a form of comfort in this unknown place. They’re lead into a cafeteria and Castiel watches as each person grabs a tray and is served up a variety of food. When he reaches the front a dollop of oatmeal is unceremoniously dumped onto his plate along with a yogurt cup and a slice of burnt toast. He nods to the pissed off looking woman who served him his food and turns to find a seat.

Dean is sitting with a dark skinned man and a burly guy with a thick southern accent, stronger than Dean’s. Keeping his head down Cas walks over to a table with one other man at it, a skinny man with greying hair. He takes the seat furthest from him and picks at his oatmeal.

Nobody disturbs him.

He follows as everyone eventually files from the room, dumping their empty trays in a pile atop a shelving unit by the door and make their way outside. Again, the inmates break off into little groups. Cas pauses, not sure where he belongs and certainly not game enough to go up to anyone. He paces along the wall of the prison. Finding a quiet spot where he has a clear view of the entire yard, he sits in the gravel drawing his knees to his chest.

For a while nobody bothers him. Many people watch him, comments are whispered under breath but thankfully nobody approaches him. He lets his head rest against the brick wall, watching the crowd.

He watches Dean interact with the burly guy, they laugh together, playing some sort of card game. A few times the burly guy nods in Castiel’s direction but only once does Dean actually look at him. Cas watches as the burly guy punches Dean square in the shoulder, Dean puts his hands up in surrender. He gets to his feet and slowly walks towards Cas. He doesn’t smile. His face shows absolutely no emotion. He walks right up to Castiel, his feet crunching on the gravel. “Hey Cas,” he says. Cas doesn’t reply. “Get up,” Dean demands, no room for argument. Cas does as he’s told. He stares right into Dean’s eyes, unflinchingly. He can feel the attraction to Dean pulling at him. Wanting to be closer to Dean. Wanting to touch him. “Come with me,” Dean says gruffly, he grabs Castiel by the arm, dragging him back over to the table with the burly criminal. Dean pushes him down and Cas hunches over in his seat. Dean takes a seat beside him; he wraps an arm around Castiel’s waist, pulling him close. Cas shoots Dean an alarmed look but doesn’t pull away.

“I’m Benny,” the burly inmate tells him, giving him a nod and a friendly smile. “You stick with Dean here and you’ll be fine.” Cas nods, eyes falling to the cards. He still doesn’t recognise the game. It might be poker; it might be _snap_ for all he knows. He can feel the eyes on him like pinpricks in his back. He tries to ignore it. He tries to focus on the arm wrapped around him. Dean’s arm. A flutter goes though him. _Dean’s arm_. He smiles to himself.

***

They’re escorted into the showers Castiel feels marginally calmer. That is, until he sees the showering conditions. He kind of liked the privacy of real life. There is none of that here. He strips down and washes quickly, furiously not meeting any eyes. He’s acutely aware of Dean next to him. Naked. He blushes feeling the arousal swirling in the pit of his gut. He’s horrified when he steadily grows hard. _Shit, Shit, Shit!_ He’s freaking out. This is not supposed to happen!

He’s so panicked he doesn’t hear Dean approach. He only feels the hand smooth down his back to curl around his hips. He jerks out of the grip, spinning around he covers his steadily filling erection. Dean smiles. “What’s wrong, Cas? You don’t want this,” his eyes flick down. Cas’ follow. He blushes furiously eyes flicking away from Dean’s cock standing proudly against his taut abdomen. _Jesus fucking Christ!_ Dean takes a step forward, crowding Castiel back against the tiled wall. Cas’ breath comes in pants. Slowly Dean reaches up, he cups Castiel’s face. He presses their lips together and instantly Castiel’s a moaning writhing mess. He curls his fingers in Dean’s hair, the lukewarm water beating down on their skin. Dean presses his their bodies together, grinds their hips together. Dean’s tongue sweeps through Castiel’s mouth, hips rutting against Castiel’s hard cock. He gasps and whimpers into Dean’s mouth. “Fuck Cas,” Dean swears, nipping and sucking down Castiel’s neck leaving a trail of marks. Cas isn’t stupid. He knows what Dean is doing. He’s publicly claiming him as his. He doesn’t even care.

***

By lights out Cas feels weird. He still feels constantly on edge. But now it’s bearable; he’s not calm exactly but he doubts he’s ever going to feel calm in this place. He curls in on himself, making himself small on the bed. He can hear Dean’s breathing above him. It sounds even and deep as if he’s asleep. Castiel squeezes his eyes closed. Dean’s breathing slowly grows more erratic, before long he’s outright panting. Is he… _no_ he wouldn’t? “Dean?” Cas’ voice sounds unnaturally loud in the silence.

“ _Cas_ ,” Dean says on a sigh. It’s followed by a grunt and Castiel knows he’s done.

“Did you just…”

“Yeah. Wanna clean me up?” Dean’s voice is breathless but Castiel can still detect a note of teasing.

“What!? No!” Cas squeezes his eyes shut, trying to block out the sound of Dean’s quiet chuckling.

He’s almost asleep when the bed shakes and creaks, his eyes spring open and he watches as Dean fall to the floor, silent as a cat. He turns to Castiel, climbing onto the bed. “What are you doing?” Cas asks, his voice rising in pitch with his panic. Dean shushes him with a kiss, forcing his tongue past Cas’ lips to tangle with his. Dean pushes Cas onto his back, he leans over him, knees on either side of Castiel’s hips. Dean begins unbuttoning Castiel’s jumpsuit without breaking the kiss. His fingers brush down Castiel’s chest skating over his ribs to cup his cock: already hard and leaking at the tip. Dean wraps his hand around it and gives an experimental tug. Castiel gasps in ecstasy.

“I’m ready to go again,” Dean whispers against Castiel’s lips. He reaches down to grab Cas’ wrist and he presses Cas’ palm to his erection.

“Yes,” Cas says on a whimper, grinding himself into Dean’s fist. Dean chuckles jacking Castiel’s cock harder. “Please, Dean,” Cas kisses Dean’s collarbone. “Please.”

“Alright Cas.” Dean sits back shucking off his already unbuttoned jumpsuit, it pools around his ankles. He turns to Castiel’s, tugging it roughly from his shoulders and forcing it down. “Turn over,” Dean’s voice is gruff, demanding. Cas obliges, turning over and spreading his legs so Dean can kneel between them. Dean runs a hand over Castiel’s bare ass, he trails a finger down his crack drawing a shiver and bitten off whimper. He grins. Leaning forward he blankets himself over Castiel to whisper in his ear, “You done this before?”  Cas nods emphatically.

“I’m gay,” he confesses, shoving his face into the thin pillow.

“Good.” Dean pulls himself up, admiring Castiel’s body in the moonlight shining through the window. The silver light paints Castiel’s body in milky whites all smooth skin and tight muscles. Dean pulls Cas’ cheeks apart, eyeing his hole. He leans forward swiping his tongue over the puckered flesh. Castiel gasps pushing back against Dean’s face. “No,” Dean chastises giving the flesh a firm pinch. Cas yelps at the brief pain. “Don’t move,” Dean commands going back to licking over Castiel’s hole. He runs his tongue around the furled rim drawing delicious moans from Castiel’s lips. When he finally spears his tongue inside, Cas is sobbing in pleasure, but he does not move. Dean eats him out with vigour, thrusting his tongue in and out with vehemency. Without any warning he slides a finger in beside his tongue and Castiel begins shaking with need.

“Oh god,” Castiel whimpers. “Dean I—,”

“Do not come.” Dean growls and Cas cries out when Dean thrusts two fingers inside his clenching hole. His spit is almost dripping down Castiel’s balls. He sucks on two of his fingers letting the saliva build up in his mouth to use as lubrication. He spits into his palm and spreads it over his dick. “Ready?” his voice sounds hoarse and fucked out and he hasn’t even got his cock inside Cas yet. Cas nods pushing backwards.

Dean pulls out his fingers and lines up his cock. He presses the head, dribbling with precome, to Cas’ hole. He begins pushing in and Castiel whimpers at the pain. Dean knows he’s not small and spit isn’t all that great a lube. But Cas will take it. He has to. He reaches around and runs a fingernail through Cas’ slit making him moan. He jacks Cas slowly as he feeds his cock into him. By the time he’s balls deep Cas is quivering and he’s _so close_ to coming. Cas is so tight. Virgin tight. If he hadn’t told Dean he’d done this before Dean’s wouldn’t have ever known.

Cas feels like Dean’s splitting him open. The pain is almost unbearable and he whimpers. Dean makes a soothing noise, running a hand down his back and he squeezes Castiel’s cock, milking more precome out of him. He knows that by now there has to be a puddle staining the mattress.

Slowly Dean beings to pull out, thrusting shallowly. The burn is still there and Castiel grits his teeth. Dean’s thrusts get deeper and deeper until he grazes Cas’ prostate and he groans loud enough for the inmates at the far end of the hall would have heard. So, naturally, Dean does it again and again until Cas is spiralling higher and higher and the bed is creaking in time with Dean’s movements. “God Cas you’re so tight. So fucking tight. I love it,” Dean gasps rocking into Cas. He grinds his hips against Castiel’s ass; the head of his cock fucking massaging his prostate and Castiel has to bite the pillow to keep from screaming in pleasure. “Gonna come Cas? You gonna come? I want to feel you. Wanna feel your ass squeeze my cock. Milk me dry. Come on Cas,” Dean growls, jacking Cas faster in time with his thrusts.

Cas comes with a cry all over the mattress and Dean’s hand. He comes so hard his head spins; he can hear his pulse thumping in his ears.

“Fuck. Fuck!” Dean cries out, rutting against Cas as he spills deep inside Castiel. He collapses on top of him. Pushing him down into the puddle on the bed. Their skin is slick with sweat and Dean’s cock is softening inside him, but right now Cas is content and he drifts off. He barely registers Dean pulling out and draping his jumpsuit over him before climbing back into his bunk.

***

This cycle repeats itself for weeks; Cas still sits at the end of the table, surrounded by no one other than the greying man with the crazy pale eyes. Dean hasn’t asked him to sit with him and Castiel hasn’t dared to come over. He sits alone in the yard. He works alone on whatever chore he has to. But at night Dean fucks him into the mattress and he _likes_ it.

For all intents and purposes, Cas is a loner. Except he isn’t. He’s _Dean’s_. And apparently that means he’s untouchable. He still doesn’t know why Dean’s even here. He doesn’t seem dangerous. He’s never seen anything to prove otherwise. He seems to get along with the majority of the inmates. He jokes and laughs with the guards and he just seems like a nice guy. Apart from the age gap, Cas would consider dating him if the circumstances were different.

***

A rustling alerts him to someone approaching him and he looks up. The skinny greying man stands over him. A sick smile on his face making the hair on the back of Castiel’s neck prickle. “You’re new here,” he says, his voice slimy. It’s the first time he’s spoken to Castiel. Cas nods, looking back at his barely touched food. The man sits down beside him, not taking a hint. “You sure are a pretty one. I tell you what, you meet me in the showers in five and I’ll grant you protection whilst you’re in here. I promise no one will touch you,” he splays a hand across the nape of Cas’ neck. He shrinks away.

“Please, leave me alone,” he whispers, his heart beating a mile a minute. The man laughs, a crackly sound that sounds more like he’s choking than laughing.

“No can do, twink,” the man leans closer. His breath fans over Castiel’s cheek and he flinches. It smells vile like rotten fruit. “I—,” the man breaks off with a cry. He’s wrenched back and Castiel is free. He stands, spinning around, his pulse still racing with fear. The man is currently being held up by the collar of his jumpsuit by Dean who looks down right livid.

“What do you think you’re doing, _Alastair_?” he spits the name like its poison on his tongue.

“Nothing that concerns you, Dean,” Alastair grins his snake-like grin. He has to know about Castiel. Everyone does. Which means that he’s just stirring Dean up.

“Oh I think it does. He belongs to me and you know how I get when people play with my toys. I don’t like to share,” Dean narrows his eyes and shoves Alastair backward. He stumbled but remains upright.

“Oh Dean you always were a possessive bastard. It’s a shame little Kevin…” Alastair doesn’t get to finish his sentence because Dean pounces. Fists fly and the crowd goes wild. They egg on the two combatants. Throwing around insults and jibes. It’s not long before blood is drawn and guards are swarming in to break up the two fighters.

Dean is yanked backward, his arms held behind his back by two guards. The same goes for Alastair. “Both of you! Three days in solitary! Get them to the infirmary,” A gruff guard with a trucker cap barks, glaring at both of them. “As for the rest of you. Mind your own fucking business!” he storms away. Leaving Cas trying to sink into the wall and disappear. His eyes must be wide as saucers. His hands are shaking and he feels like vomiting.

Alastair is dragged away first. Dean shortly after. He winks at Castiel even though his eye is almost swelling shut and his lip is split and dribbling blood down his chin. Slowly Cas sinks to the ground. He draws his knees up to his chest and is ignored by the rest of the inmates.

Dean’s words echo in his mind. _He belongs to me. I don’t like to share._ It scares him how much he likes them.

***

Dean returns three days later and Castiel is so relieved. He’d been living on edge. Always looking over his shoulder. Keeping to himself. Not doing anything to draw attention. “You miss me?” Dean grins cockily and Castiel launches himself at Dean. He hugs him tightly. Dean tenses up, not hugging back and Castiel pulls away, remembering his place.

“Sorry. I just missed you,” Cas whispers, climbing back on his bed, and picking up the book he’d requested from the guards. Dean shrugs, swinging himself up on his bed.

“Good,” Dean says sounding smug.

***

Dean pulls out of Castiel with a groan. He tugs on his jumpsuit and is about to stand when Cas places a hand on his wrist. Dean looks back at him, an eyebrow raised. “Can I ask you a question?” Cas whispers.

“Depends,” Dean scoots back until his back rests against the concrete wall.

“Why are you here?” Cas sounds hesitant. He’s curious. He asked Benny while Dean was in solitary but he only said that if Cas wants to know, he’d have to ask Dean. Dean is silent. He just stares at Castiel; his face slipping into the unreadable mask that is was when Cas first arrived.

“Why do you want to know?” Dean mutters. Castiel draws his knees to his chest, feeling Dean’s come begin leaking from his ass.

“You know why I’m here. It seems I’m the only one who doesn’t know and it is _your_ come leaking from my ass,” Cas tries not to sound petulant. He knows Dean doesn’t like it when he gets all whiny. He learnt it the hard way when he tried to cuddle Dean after Dean fucked him.

“I suppose.” Dean is quiet a moment. He takes a deep breath, “Shot my dad,” he says simply. Cas is dumbstruck.

“Really? There had to be a reason, right?” Dean looks over him. His eyes softening when they rake over Cas’ body pulled into a ball, clutching his pillow to his chest.

“Yeah. He was a fucking asshole. He’d spend all the money on booze and then expect dinner on the table every night. I tried. I tried to keep providing for us. Me and my brother. But I couldn’t. And then I came home one day and I found Sammy in his bedroom cryin’. Dad had hit him. Punched him right in the face, gave him a black eye and I snapped. I went to the gun safe and shot the bastard. For Sammy. He didn’t deserve living with that deadbeat. He’s a lawyer now. He comes to see me every month when he can.”

“Oh Dean. I’m sorry,” Cas places a hand on Dean’s arm. Dean rolls his eyes.

“Don’t be sorry. What’s done is done. I got twenty-five years for attempted murder. Ten down. Fifteen to go. If I be a good little boy I get out earlier,” Dean tries to crack a joke but it falls flat when Castiel sighs, giving him a sympathetic look. “Don’t look at me like that,” Dean spits, getting angry. Cas looks away, turning his body away from Dean. He hears Dean sigh. He feels the bed creaking and he almost has a coronary when Dean gathers him into his arms and slots their bodies together. Dean holds him close.

“It’ll be OK,” Cas whispers, pressing his lips to Dean’s neck.

“Thanks Cas.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> You know what make me smile? Comments and Kudos. Don't forget to drop me some, they're greatly appreciated!  
> 


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